


Under bright streaks of blue light

by Starsong



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Baby Yoda being Adorable, Canon-Typical Violence, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Mando'a, Mando's melting, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Mando, Protectiveness, They/Them pronouns for Baby Yoda, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, eating antics, just a bit and then it's gone, they/them pronouns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starsong/pseuds/Starsong
Summary: Just a quiet night after the events of the Prison. The Mandalorian contemplates his child.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 303





	Under bright streaks of blue light

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, this show resurrected my inspiration and my gosh it feels good to write something. If my style feels nonexistent and/or stilted, know I haven't written a proper thing in 4 years... I'm ashamed, sincerely ://
> 
> Anyway, self-pity aside, I've had fun making this! I really can't believe I'm writing something, finally, but Baby Yoda is a force everyone needs to bow to.
> 
> Also, hope I got the end of the episode right, I live off of gifs, fan reviews and stills ;-; (Why, Disney, why make Europe wait until March, why???)
> 
> Enjoy!!

His heart had stopped when he’d seen the droid standing in front of the wide-open space where he’d left the child. Its blaster certainly point blank on the small being. He’d almost shot his own blaster before he managed to point it at the droid’s head. The resulting shower of sparks and blinding lights was almost as satisfying as seeing the child safe when the heavy body of the droid fell to the floor with a thundering noise.

Now, back in the cockpit of the _Razor Crest_ , already light-years away from the Prison, and still crossing more, ship surrounded by endless streaking lights, his heart finally started to beat back into existence. Every coo and sound coming from his child helped the tension in his hands ease, controls no longer in danger of being snapped. They’d gotten out of there easily enough after he’d dragged and thrown the weighty body of the robot out and closed the ramp. He’d had half the thought to keep it for spare parts, but as soon as the thought started to bloom, he had crushed it in a mental fist. He wanted nothing to do with the corpse of his child’s almost-murderer.

A coo dismissed his darkening thoughts. He blinked beneath his light-streaked helmet and slowly turned towards the tiny being in the makeshift carrier he’d swiftly but carefully put together not that long ago. The tension in his shoulders began to ease as well at the sight of his charge.

Sighing, he turned back to the ship’s controls, spurred by a warm feeling in his chest and the repeated memory of a certain not-toy. He unscrewed the metal ball off its lever and twisted around to give the little foundling the object they so clearly revered.

“Told you that was a bad idea.” He said, taking in the face of his child, who shifted wide eyes from the enchanting light-show right outside the windows of the cockpit to the Mandalorian.

Their ears perked up, seemingly happy to have his attention and the child only responded with another coo. They made grabby motions with one of their tiny hands and he didn’t hesitate to extend his arm forwards and place the little ball in their palm. The child continued to look at him while slowly pulling their makeshift toy closer, almost like they were surprised that he was giving it to them so easily.

He found himself smiling as he turned back to the controls, adjusting their speed. He knew the child most likely still had their eyes one him and, as he made one final adjustment and locked the autopilot into place, his exhaustion catching up with him helped him reach a decision. He turned and rose from his seat with purpose. Gently, he lifted the cooing foundling into his arms and exited the cabin, going down the ladder swiftly, before closing the hatch. There, the little one might not feel as inclined to roam around as much.

Then, he went to the small space he’d put together for the child and placed them there for a bit as he decided to put away his armour, glancing every once in a while at the foundling. They let out more endearing sounds while they played with the ball they received and the dragged the short blue blanket they had from Sorgan over their head. As soon as he was finished, he took one look at them and let out a surprised and amused breath.

The child had managed to twist themselves in a tight and soft cocoon and was struggling to free their tiny arms. They let out a soft gurgle and lowered their ears when they realized he was looking at them and the warm feeling from before returned with a vengeance.

“Stuck, little womp rat?” he asked, another breathy chuckle escaping his throat despite him trying to contain it.

Another gurgle. A short and squeaky whine followed and finally he moved to help his child free their arms. He was rewarded with a happy coo and the foundling trying to shove the metallic ball into their mouth. He gently stopped them and realized that neither he nor the little one had yet to eat since taking off. Sighing, silently berating himself, he went to one of the supply boxes thrown around haphazardly. He’d have to rearrange them another time. Kneeling and searching through, he found some rations and some yellow and egg-shaped fruit. It looked fresh enough, so it’d have to do, he’d need only the rations anyway. Straightening, he picked a ration bar, a water skin and a couple of the fruit, then he closed the crate and went back to the child.

He picked them up, food and all, and stepped around to his own cot, managing to free up a hand and use it to lower down the panel down. He sat down, metal creaking and settled with his back against the wall at the end of his cot. The child cooed as they were released onto his lap and put down their toy to pick one of the fruits up. When in the Mandalorian’s hand, the fruit had only taken up half of his palm. Now, held up by the child, the egg-shaped thing needed both of their tiny hands. Trying to squish down the fondness that bubbled up and smile that threatened to take over his face, the Mandalorian sighed and instead lifted his hands to his helmet.

Then, he froze.

It wouldn’t be the first time, no. He’d taken off his helmet with the little one present before, but every time he hesitated. This was his child here, his foundling. _Kaish ad’ika_ He felt he’d gotten better at it, though, not panicking as he pulled it off and down next to the child. His _ad’ika_ cooed and immediately swallowed the remaining half of the yellow fruit to place sticky hands on the shiny _beskar_. He winced, but remembered he’d need to clean and tend to his armour anyway.

_Later, after some sleep, however._

He nodded to himself and grabbed his own food to eat. Meanwhile, he watched as the child tried to lift the heavier metal up and onto their own head and fondness came rushing back.

“Too heavy, _ad’ika_.” He told them.

Then, he put down the waterskin and pulled the helmet away from the little being. He pushed the second fruit towards them, and they gurgled a bit at him, ears perking up. Then, deciding he was right, they made the attempt to climb into the helmet instead. As soon as they arranged themselves into the small space, they bit into the fruit, ears rising even higher. At the sight, the Mandalorian’s heart skipped a beat and he found himself wishing, deep down, that the little one would stay forever small, if only for moments like these. He knew it was dangerous for them to be so vulnerable, unable to even wear their own armour or a blaster to protect themselves, but this short stature of theirs did save them a few times already.

Well, they’ll cross that bridge when they’d need to. For now, he could admire his child as they played and ate in the safety of the _Razor Crest_ and his own presence.

He finished up, and used some of the remaining water to dampen a cloth and clean the foundling’s sticky hands before grabbing the helmet, ignoring the child’s protesting squeak, and placing it on one of the crates next to the cot. Then, he lied down properly and picked the little one up, cradling them to his chest. The child cooed and latched tiny hands onto his shirt, blinking big eyes up at him.

“ _Nuhoy, ad’ika_.” He whispered, laying his head down and letting the sound of his child’s breaths and their warmth lull him into slumber.

. . .

Later, he’d need to fish out the metal ball from under an aching rib, but the child would smile and giggle and all would be fine.

_End._

**Author's Note:**

> Kaish ad'ika = His child  
> ad'ika = child  
> Nuhoy, ad'ika = Sleep, child
> 
> Thank goodness for the Mando'a dictionary, it's a true blessing.
> 
> Right, well, I really don't know if I'll write more, considering I don't have access to the actual show, but that shouldn't be enough for my ideas to run dry.
> 
> If you liked it, consider leaving a like or a comment, they really do make my day! Or night, considering the time XD
> 
> Thank you!


End file.
